A Sonic Christmas Carol
by Nightmare the Dragon
Summary: Shadow was a miser. His money was his life. Then, one Christmas Eve, Shadow receives a trio of visitors who show him the meaning of Christmas, as well as his life. Based on the beloved story by Charles Dickens.
1. Chapter 1

**A Sonic Christmas Carol**

**Merry Christmas everyone! This is Nightmare the Dragon here with a Sonic Christmas Carol! Last year, I attempted to do this but failed miserably. But this time, I'm determined to get this story done by Christmas day! **

**On with the Show!**

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sonic or the actual story. You know who they belong to, right?**

Scourge was dead to begin with. Dead as a doornail. Did Shadow know that? Of course! He had known his partner for who knows how long. He was Scourge's only executor, administrator, friend, and mourner. Everyone else, they couldn't care less!

Shadow had never even painted out Scourge's name on the sign. It stood there over the warehouse door-Shadow and Scourge. But Shadow was a tight-fisted hedgehog at the grindstone- a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner.

Once upon a time-of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve-Shadow sat busy in his counting house. It was a cold, bleak, biting day. The fog poured in at every chink and keyhole. The door to Shadow's office was open that he might keep a watchful eye on his clerk, Sonic the Hedgehog, who was copying letters in his dismal little cell on the other side of the building.

"Merry Christmas, Shadow!" cried a cheerful voice from the doorway. "Hmph!" Shadow scoffed. "What a load!" It was Shadow's nephew, Silver, who had heated himself walking that he was a glow.

"Christmas a load, Shadow?" Silver said. "Surely you don't mean that." Shadow just looked at his young relative.

"I do," he answered. "Merry Christmas! What right do you have to be merry? You're poor enough."

"What right do you have to be dismal?" Silver responded. "You're rich enough."

Shadow simply returned saying, "Bah! Humbug." Silver shook his head. "Don't be mad, Shadow."

"What else can I be?" the black hedgehog snapped. "What's Christmas to you but a time for finding yourself another year older, but not an hour richer? If I could work my will, every idiot who says 'Merry Christmas' should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart."

"Don't be angry! Why don't you come and have dinner with us tomorrow?"

Shadow just looked down at his papers. "Good afternoon," he said.

"I'm sorry to see you are so resolute," Silver said. "Still, a Merry Christmas, Shadow!"

"Good afternoon!" said Shadow.

"And a Happy New Year!" Shadow's nephew left without an angry word. The clerk, as Silver left, let two other gentlemen in.

"Shadow and Scourge's, I believe," one of them said, a tall fat man with a ridiculous mustache. "Do I have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Shadow, or Mr. Scourge?"

"Scourge has been dead for seven years," Shadow responded. "He died on this very night seven years ago."

The man just stroked his mustache. "We have no doubt," he began, "that his generosity will be responded in his partner." Shadow just frowned.

"At this very time of year," the gentleman continued, "we try to make provisions for the poor and homeless."

Shadow just looked at the man. "Are there no prisons or workhouses?" he asked.

"There are plenty of prisons and workhouses going," the man answered.

"Oh!" Shadow responded. "I was afraid something made them stop."

"Nevertheless," returned the man, "a few of us work to raise a fund to buy the poor some food and drink. What can I put you down for?"

"Nothing," the black hedgehog answered. "I don't make merry at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I send my support to the places I have told you about. The poor and homeless must go there."

"But, more would rather die than go there!" the man exclaimed.

"If they would die they had better do it," Shadow snapped, "and decrease the surplus population. Good afternoon!" The man left the building, seeing that the interview was clearly over.

When closing time came, an ill will Shadow saw an expecting Sonic in his cell. "It's closing time, Sonic," he called out. The blue hedgehog nodded and snuffed out his candle.

"I suppose you'll want the day off tomorrow?" Shadow asked. Sonic nodded and said, "It only comes once a year! Cut me a break!" Shadow just put on his coat and looked at him. "Such a poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every December twenty-fifth," he said. "But I suppose I could give you the day off. Just be here all the earlier the next morning."

Within moments, the office was closed, and Shadow walked off with a grunt.

**I have changed a few things in this chapter just recently. I thank the reviewer that suggested it. Everything seems to makes a lot more sense. Thanks!**

**Nightmare the Dragon, signing off, and a Merry Christmas to you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Sonic Christmas Carol**

**Here's the second chapter! Let's do this!**

**Chapter 2**

Shadow took his usual dinner in his usual tavern. Having read all the newspapers and reviewed his bankbook, he went home.

Now, knew that there was nothing particular about the knocker on Shadow's door. He had seen it, morning and night, the whole time he had lived there. And yet Shadow, having his key in the lock, suddenly saw-not a knocker, but Scourge's face.

Scourge's face. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked simply as Scourge used to look. The quills were curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot air; and, though the eyes were open, they were perfectly motionless.

As Shadow looked at this phenomenon, it was a knocker again. To say that he wasn't startled would be untrue. He put his hand on the key, turned it sturdily, walked in, and lighted a candle. He paused before shutting the door and looked cautiously behind it. There was nothing on the back of the door, save for the nuts and screws that held the knocker on. "Bah!" Shadow said. He closed the door with a bang.

The sound traveled through the house like thunder, but Shadow was not a man frightened by echoes. He walked through the hall and up the stairs, trimming the candle as he went. Before he would turn in for the night, he went to inspect his rooms.

Sitting room, bedroom, storeroom. They were all as they should be. Nothing under the table, or under the sofa. Nothing under the bed or in the closet, either. When he was satisfied, Shadow closed his door and locked the double locks. Secured against surprise, he put on his dressing gown and sat down before the fire to take his meal.

As he sat back in his chair, he glanced upon an unused bell that hung in the room. As he looked, he saw the bell began to swing. It swung softly at first, but soon it rang out loudly, as did every bell in the house.

The bells ceased as suddenly as they begun, altogether, and were succeeded by a clanking noise, down on the basement floor beneath him.

The cellar door flew open with a booming sound. Shadow heard the noise grow louder on the floors beneath, coming up the stairs and straight towards his door. "It's all humbug!" he said. "I won't believe it."

His color changed when, without pausing, it came through the door and into the room.

That face: the exact same face. Scourge stood before him in his pigtail, waistcoat, tights, and boots. He carried a chained clasped around his torso. It wound around him like a tail. It was made of cashboxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, and heavy purses, all wrought in steel.

Although he looked at the phantom through and through, Shadow was still incredulous. "How much!?" Shadow said. "What do you want with me?"

"Much!" It was Scourge's voice, without a doubt.

"Who are you?" Shadow demanded.

"In life I was your partner, Scourge the Hedgehog."

"Can you sit down?" Shadow asked doubtfully.

"I can."

"Go on, then."

The ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace. "You don't believe in me," he observed.

"I don't," said Shadow.

"Why do you doubt your senses?"

"Because the little things affect them," Shadow said. "A slight disorder of the stomach can make them cheat. You may be a bit of undigested beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of undercooked potato. There's more gravy than the grave about you, whatever you are!"

At this, the spirit raised a frightful cry as it shook its chains. Shadow fell on his knees. "Mercy!" he cried. "Why do you trouble me?"

"To you believe in me or not?" the ghost demanded.

"Yes!" Shadow answered. "I must. But why do spirits walk the earth? Why do they come to me?"

"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk among his fellow men," the Ghost returned. "If that spirit does not go forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death."

"Why are you bound by chains?" Shadow asked trembling.

"I wear the chain I forged in life," the Ghost replied. "I made it link by link, yard by yard. Would you know the weight and length of the chain you bear yourself? It was as heavy and long as this, seven years ago. You have labored on it since then."

Shadow looked around him, expecting to see himself surrounded by several yards of iron chains. He could see only nothing. "Scourge," he said imploringly. "Scourge, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Scourge!"

"I have none to give," the Ghost replied. "Nor can I tell you what I'd like to. A very little more is permitted to me. I cannot rest. I cannot stay. I cannot linger anywhere."

"But you were always a good man of business, Scourge," Shadow said.

"Business!" cried the Ghost, wringing the chain in his hands. "Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business. Charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all my business!" It held its chain at arm's length and flung it heavily upon the ground.

"Hear me!" the Ghost cried. "My time is nearly over. I am here tonight to warn you, so that you can have the chance to escape my fate. You will be haunted by Three Spirits."

"Haunted?" Shadow said. "No thanks!"

"Without their visits," the Ghosts said, "you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. You will see me no more and for your own sake, remember what has passed between us! Expect the First Spirit tonight."

The apparition then began walking backward from Shadow. At every step, the window was going for raised itself a little, so that when it was wide open when the Ghost was close. The specter floated out the window and into the bleak, dark night.

Shadow followed to the window, desperate with his curiosity. He looked out the window and saw the air was filled with phantoms, wandering in restless haste. Every one of them wore chains like Scourge's Ghost.

Whether the creatures faded into mist, or the mist enshrouded them, he could not tell. But they and their spirit voices faded together.

Shadow closed the window and examined the door the Ghost entered through. The locks were undisturbed. He tried to scoff, but stopped immediately. Much in need of repose, he went straight to bed and fell asleep.

**Another chapter finished. I hope I can get this story done in time for Christmas.**

**Nightmare the Dragon, signing off!**


End file.
